


Fake fur

by noheadedwarrior



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, F/M, M/M, Magic, Post-Hogwarts, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noheadedwarrior/pseuds/noheadedwarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is an ADHD problem child with a cat more magically talented than him. </p><p>Derek is a typical arrogant Slytherin, and a werewolf (which surprisingly isn’t a secret.)</p><p> </p><p>  <i>'He was infecting a poison into Stiles, one that would have no cure.  It would torture Stiles when this was all over but death would hurt him more.'<i></i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Detention

    

Familiars were strictly not allowed in the Great hall. It was never specifically said why but Stiles could attest it to the growing number of cat hairs found in the food.  Stiles ignored this rule religiously. Mantra wasn’t hairless but she kept herself well groomed. Her ginger fur was curled tight around Stiles’ feet and she was currently nibbling at some fresh cod that had ‘accidently’ dropped within paws reach.

Stiles was wolfing down his pie so enthusiastically that he forgot to chew, inevitably leading to a lodged piece of steak in his throat.  He rushed to grab a glass of water but knocked it over in the process. Scott seemed to notice his predicament, smacking him on the back until the meat successfully made its way down his gullet. Mantra seemed to be unaffected by the whole ordeal, still purring happily at her lunch.

‘’Slow down tiger.’’ Scott chuckled while Stiles was gasping thankfully at the air.

He hugged him hard, ruffling his hair appreciatively. ‘’My prince and saviour!’’ Stiles constantly inhaled his food, preferring the race rather than enjoying the flavours.

Scott obviously thought Stiles brief recovery time was enough because he was soon bombarded with newly formed questions about Allison, Scott’s off again on again girlfriend. Stiles usually drifts off when this begins. He wasn’t a bad friend. It’s just there is only so many times you can be told what someone’s hair smells like without wanting to kick their face in.

He usually spent most of his time, in moments like these, staring at students from the other houses. Ravenclaw’s Lydia Martin was usually at the top of his tally but today his eyes fell on the Slytherin table, archenemies to his brave house of Gryffindor.

They always seemed to have the most dramatic dinner events. Last month there was a heated argument between Horace McCarthy and Jim Billington that led to a few badly thrown punches. However, when he investigated further, he found out it was a simple disagreement about which sauce goes best with a bacon sandwich. It was still the most interesting thing that happened that term.

Hogwarts lacked the spirit or passion felt during the Voldemort uprising. There was no immediate threat to the Wizarding world and so eventually things seemed to fall into a mundane cycle of magic, education and jobs. Stiles often felt stifled; he lacked the practical experience needed to become a truly great wizard. He knew it was wrong but he felt pangs of envy when hearing about the heroic moments of the Golden Trio.

This isn’t to say Stiles didn’t have his share of excitement. You could say that he was overly excited most of the time. Stiles had ADHD, it was usually kept under control with a healthy batch of Adderall but sometimes he just had the desire to create havoc. Just ask anyone who attended his Defence of the Dark Arts class. There was just something about Professor Randall’s demeanour that screamed to be tormented. 

His eyes skimmed the sea of green and black uniforms before finding a target. Derek Hale. The werewolf, ‘out and proud,’ was sufficient enough to ogle at. He was hunched over the table having an intense eye battle with an apple while his girlfriend, Kate Argent, berated him furiously. Derek either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He looked worn and pale with fresh new scars from the previous full moon.

The next thing she said obviously riled him up because he broke his stare with the solitude fruit and glared at her with a fresh combination of lust and hate. Stiles was taken aback by the force of the gaze. It was surprising to know that Derek was capable of expressing emotions aside from his usual haughtiness and indifference.

Everyone knew about Derek Hale, they knew of his tragic past and how he turned into a grizzly every month. They also knew he was a Class A dick. He struts- Stiles would defiantly say struts- down the corridors with his obnoxious Slytherin ‘gang’ in tow, talking brazenly about escaping this ‘diseased-ridden school’ and insulting passing students who try to scurry past them.

Some people really are products of their environment so Stiles didn’t really blame him for his social inabilities. Your whole family getting killed, by the very creature you have become, would not turn you into a barrel of laughs.  Sure, Stiles pitied him but this didn’t mean he had to like him. The fact that they had never spoken to each other didn’t hinder his opinion.

Stiles may have drifted off for longer than anticipated. When he was ready to engage back into the conversation with Scott, he had already finished his lunch and was heading towards the main staircases.

‘’Wait up mate!’’ Stiles didn’t have enough time to subtly hide Mantra so instead he plonked her in plain sight on his shoulder. He hoped that being so conspicuous may have rewarded him with disregard. He rushed to catch up with Scott but his logic failed him almost immediately.

‘’Mr Stilinski!’’ Headmaster Longbottom bellowed across the room. ‘’Stop where you are.’’

Every head in the room turned to the lone boy, frozen in mid run, with a look of dread rushing through his face.

‘’I am sure you know the policy on familiars in this particular room.’’ Stiles nodded glumly, turning to face the head table. Professor Longbottom was a stub of a man, with red blotches dotting his face and grey shrouding his hair. Stiles always thought it strange that he was idolised as a hero among wizards. His appearance did not reflect one ounce of bravery or intelligence.

‘’You know the drill Mr Stilinski, Detention. 8pm. Hagrid’s Hut.’’

Mantra mewed a retort into Stiles’ neck.

He had never had detention there before, nor really knew where it was. This called for a trip to Hogsmeade. Stiles knew a local down there who chatted nonsensically about secret passageways around the castle.  The information came in handy when Stiles went snooping at night, trying to find uncovered mysteries.

*

Reluctantly leaving Mantra in his dorm room, curled up in his gown, Stiles set off across the castle. His aim was the circular hut off the edge of the Forbidden Forrest. Scott hadn’t even known it existed, while Stiles was prepared with the knowledge gained from his latest trip to Hogsmeade.

Stiles was so busy concentrating on directing himself through the courtyard, he nearly didn’t notice a pillar of darkness in the corner. Derek Hale. He was leaning against the stone wall of the archway whispering erratically into, what looked to be, a muggle phone.

‘’No. It’s too soon…. I said we can’t right now!’’ He pressed his spare hand against his forehead, fingers wrinkling with frustration. ‘’Please…Ok, Yes… I get it. Yes… fine! Ok. Bye.’’  

‘’Girlfriend troubles?’’ Derek spun around startled, pocketing the phone in haste.

‘’That’s none of your fucking business.’’ He spat and headed along the path, in the direction Stiles was also intending to go. His gait was full of anger and his posture closed off.  So, he was secretive. This struck a chord of affinity with Stiles, who had one giant furry secret of his own.

Stiles set off to catch up with him. He disregarded Derek’s obvious desire to be alone, approaching him boldly.

'‘I take it your also heading towards detention?’' He questioned, expecting an affirmative answer. No one would head this path unless their destination was the forbidden forest or there about.

Derek grunted harshly, quickening his pace.

Stiles grumbled some insults under his breath but trailed slowly behind Derek.

*

It had started drizzling with rain by the time they were lead through the main door. Professor Weasley was the chosen teacher tonight, escorting them up the steps and into the squashed cosy cabin. Stiles half expected to be met by a feast and a roaring fire but there was no such welcome.

They were in a dim entrance room with a line of doors encircling them, Stiles counted at least thirty. They all wore different and opposing looks. One doused in cheerful colours while another was as dark as a Dementor’s cloak. To a muggle, it would appear impossible for a hut this size to have that many separate rooms but they didn’t know what Stiles knew.  He was aware that this hut was magically configured to be bigger on the inside than out.

Miss Weasley pointed her wand towards a particular worn oak door and muttered under her breath. It welcomed her spell, creaking open responsively. He followed Derek and Professor Weasley into the room.

He smiled openly at Miss Weasley when he sat down. She was one of Stiles favourite teachers, always humming tunelessly and walking in a way that made her auburn curls bounce. Both he and Derek were placed in individual desks on opposing sides, Derek a row back from him. Stiles glanced around. It was cramped and the décor was simple, with paintings of lilacs dawning the walls.

‘’I was not expecting you here Mr Hale, This must have been a very last minute insubordination.'’  Derek nodded and scratched his head nervously.

Miss Wealsey spewed some introductory lecture on the importance of discipline and the repercussions of misbehaving. She sat down in front of them and began reading a muggle newspaper called ‘ _The Guardian’._

Stiles tapped his fingers noncommittally on the desk, he was already restless at 15 minutes in. It was time to set his plan in motion.

Stiles turned and sent a signalling wink in Derek’s direction, a bemused look plastered his face.

‘’Miss, I am reading a really good book at the moment! I’m not sure if you have heard of the author.'' Stiles dug deep into his backpack, pulling out a mossy green book and brandishing it wildly before laying it on the desk.

Her face lit up in instant recognition.

‘’Oh! That’s Mum’s…’’ She realised her mistake too late, coughing in vain to try to cover the last word. ‘’… Mrs Weasley’s book.’’

Stiles feigned shock, gasping and flailing his hands dramatically. ‘’ _Your_ mum is Hermione Granger? She was the greatest witch of her age!’'

It had to be obvious that Stiles knew the relation between the two. Who didn’t know? She was constantly prodded by students for answers about the Golden Trio.

‘’Don’t play games with me Mr Stilinski.’’ She tried to keep an even tone but her beetroot face betrayed her.

Stiles shook his head and placed his hands into his hoodie pocket. ‘Never Miss, I wouldn’t. I was just so _excited_ because… erm…’’ He slyly glanced downwards at the book, flicking through its pages casually.’‘…I am just fascinated by her theory on mandrake root being a desensitiser to open wounds’ He looked open eyed and eagerly at Miss Weasley. 

‘’Well now that you mention it she has always been spirited about that particular subject, always annoying Dad with her new ideas about the application element.’' _Ok Stiles now reel her in._

'‘Oh excellent, I am sure you have some advice if I were to think about writing a research essay on it?’’

Her face warmed. ‘’Unfortunately I am not as well adept as mother is, in that field. I suppose I could…’’ She seemed to ponder for a moment. ‘’In these very special circumstances I may make a private call.’’ Her chair screeched against the stone tiles as she got up.

‘’Now, I am going to have to find somewhere with a fireplace. Just so you are aware, If you go outside this classroom on your own without a teacher, there is more than a fifty percent chance you will be eaten by a hippogriff.’’ Stiles gathered that she was trying to instil fear into them and, to be honest, it did make him feel significantly less confident about the whole endeavour.

On her way out she momentarily paused in the doorway and turned her head to the two boys, eyeing them suspiciously.

‘‘If you two move, I swear, there will be consequences of the Whomping Willow variety.’’ She closed the door with a force that made the paintings shake.

Stiles waited till her footsteps were barely a tap before swinging round to face Hale. He looked slightly impressed, though obviously pained, by the revaluation that Stiles Stilinski was just that fantastically smart.

Derek slung his rucksack over his shoulder. ‘’Not bad.’’ He muttered reluctantly.

‘’Not bad is an understatement. This isn’t the first time I’ve bunked off, you’re also going to need my incognito skills to find your way out of here’’

His face twisted into a faux puzzled expression. ‘’Why? I suppose I couldn’t cope without a big strong man like you to guide me?’’

Stiles sauntered towards the door, turning from his scowl. ‘’Sarcasm greatly appreciated and I assume you have never had detention here,’’ Stiles motioned for Derek to follow him out the low slung door and into a narrow badly lit passage way.

‘‘Now, does this look familiar?’’ He glanced about, noticing the lack of doors and the size.  Derek looked like he was trying to resist the urge to say yes. ‘‘No.’’ He managed through gritted teeth.  Stiles smiled triumphantly.

‘‘That’s because this is an enchanted hut. It’s mostly used to keep particular troublesome students-’’ he gestured to him and Derek. ‘’-somewhere impossible to escape from, that is, without the assistance of a professor.’’

‘’…and I suppose you are going to tell me you have defied the impossible?’’

Stiles looked sheepish. ‘‘Well, not quite.’’ Derek rolled his eyes. ‘But! I have a reliable source that told me the super-secret escape route, he promises its fool-proof. ‘’ He looked wary but nodded at Stiles with newly found assurance.

He was enjoying flaunting his superior knowledge over the werewolf and seeing his reactions. They were all feelings he had never seen before from his face. Stiles wondered if it was only him that made Derek this irritated.

That was an arrogant thought, but Stiles couldn’t shake it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is Stiles’ Secret? What is Derek’s? Will they ever get out of Hagrid’s hut alive? Find out next time on this-thing-that-I-do.


	2. Underwater

 

Stiles directed Derek further into the dark recesses of the hallway. He was following specific told instructions, depending on a number of different factors and possible locations. This was because not Stiles nor Dumbledore-resurrected could be sure where they’d end up, once outside the confines of the classroom. This hallway was one of the many likely outcomes and it’s the one he had dreaded the most.  This was mainly because it involved counting a lot of notches in the wall and Stiles hated maths with a passion.

Derek was still following him with reluctant steps. They didn’t talk for this process, Stiles was thankful for that, he needed all the concentration he could get and a vocal moody werewolf was not going to help.

He counted 600 notches before recognising an odd circular symbol, its lines were smudged and longstanding.  Its presence indicated that Stiles could stop the mind-numbing calculations. ‘ _Tap your wand three times on the slab to your left’_ Stiles recalled and so he pulled out his wand and began tapping with vigour.

With a grumble the stones began to erupt from the wall and crash to the ground one by one. Stiles jumped back instinctively, narrowly avoiding a few shards. Derek looked surprised that Stiles efforts bought fruition, his caterpillar eyebrows high on his forehead. 

The sounds eventually seized and with it the stones stopped falling, revealing a crooked edged iron door in their wake. It gave Stiles an ominous feeling. It was more reminiscent of a slab than a door, it had no handle and only a small keyhole.

Derek stepped forward and spread his inhumanly large hands on its front. He roughly pushed at the door but it barely made a sound let alone moved to open.

‘’It’s not opening.’’ Derek growled at him like the caveman he was.

‘’Patience, Hulk.  There’s supposed to be a key around here…’’ Stiles spotted the flattened square clock, its arrows pointing randomly at Roman numbers. ‘’Up there.’’ He said pointing. It was close to the ceiling and unreachable without aid.  Stiles gazed longingly at it.

‘’You’re going to have to give me a leg up.’’  Derek looked at Stiles as if he was getting tired of his antics. He sighed and nodded solemnly. 

Derek didn’t help with the process. He still stood there like he’d rather hex a centaur than let Stiles climb him like a pole. Obviously not in a sexual way. Nope. Though he did eventually kneel down, defeated by Stiles’ logic.

Stiles put his legs over his broad shoulders, his crotch pushing uncomfortably into the back of Derek’s head.  Derek rose and Stiles was now just tall enough to pick up the key from behind the clock. It was tougher to pull free than expected so he did a quick de-gluing spell. He learnt the spell from his neighbour, who used it the time Stiles glued his hands together... for scientific purposes. Stiles can now tell his dad that he _had_ accomplished something from that experiment.

Once back on solid earth, Derek immediately snatched the key from his grasp and inserted it into the lock. It clicked open and he- basically- sprinted inside.  

‘’Does the word ‘thank you’ exist in your vocabulary!?’ Stiles barked while following him.

Stiles nearly fell down the descending stairs chasing after Derek. ‘I am pretty sure we are meant to be looking for an exit? Not sure if we are going to find that at the bottom of some creepy horror-movie stairs.’

Stiles heard Derek grunt ‘‘Shut up.’’ before the stairs came away from under them. Stiles screamed like a banshee and fell backwards, hitting his back on a flat surface. Stiles was now with increasing speed sliding down the –now flattened- stairs. He saw the words ‘ _waves to water is fire to slaughter’_ pass him in a blur.

He finally, in what seemed like forever, fell onto a sprawled out Derek as the slide came to an end.

‘’What did you touch?!’’ Derek’s question was muffled by Stiles’ hoody.

‘‘Nothing.’’  He said through gritted teeth and then mumbled ‘‘ _Maybe_ if you didn’t run off we could have figured out that they were hexed stairs…’’ He paused.

‘’…You big bumbling boar.’’ this latter part was mouthed, Stiles didn’t like alliteration as much as he liked his face.

Derek shoved Stiles off him and got up with newly fired anger. He immediately started feeling the walls up and down.

Stiles tried to look up the slide but the door they had come through was now a harrowing black pit. He couldn’t see anything, only the newly formed slide protruding from the darkness.

‘‘Giving the room a lap dance won’t help, at least not for our situation.’’ Stiles finished with a wink.

 ‘’I know that. I’m trying to find out if there are any rooms next to this one. Unless you want to enlighten me with some more of your _excellent_ skiving-off plans, maybe Henry the kitchen elf told you a guaranteed recipe to brew the next philosopher’s stone.’’ Derek looked defeated and his tone dripped with sarcasm.

This was the most Derek had ever said to Stiles, although it was full of insults and mocking.  He grew hot with embarrassment and decided to ignore the accompany feelings by taking stock of their surroundings. They were in a stone chamber with no doors and only one candle that let out a dim glow into the room.  It was empty except for the two teenage boys.

Derek clicked his fingers at Stiles, snapping him out of his observations.  ‘’Here.’’ He said gesturing to a minuscule crack on the wall ‘’I can hear the wind.’’

Stiles pressed his ear to the wall but heard nothing. ‘‘I can’t hear anything.’’

‘’Of course you can’t. You’re only human.’’  Stiles narrowed his eyes while Derek rapped the spot lightly with his wand, muttering an incoherent spell.

There was no denying that Stiles could hear it now. A high pitched scream pierced the room, sound bouncing off the walls and drilling into Stiles mind. He fell to the floor clutching at his ears, Derek mimicked him in turn.

‘’I don’t think it was the wind!’’ Stiles shouted. He didn’t know why he even spoke when the only thing either of them could hear was screeching. Stiles regarded the mark in the wall, which wasn’t so insignificant anymore.  It was expanding, cracking as it split the slabs in two. Stone smashed onto the floor as both of them instinctively pressed themselves onto the opposite side of the room.

If they thought this was the worst of it. They were wrong. Stiles was contemplating movement when water started to seep into, what now could only be described as, his coffin.  It started as a slow stream seeping cautiously through the splits but as more rubble fell the water gushed in at an alarming speed, with no threat of stopping.

Derek was now panicking. It was a look that Stiles was glad to see before he died, quite hilarious.  His eyes darted around for an escape, he even tried to run up the slide. He was frantic, the water so high now that it covered his knees.  Stiles took the opposite approach, sitting with his hands still pressed to his head, hoping it was an instantaneous death so he didn’t have to listen to any more of this stomach sickening noise.

The wall came through completely then and they were both flattened, a new spout of water paralysing them against the wall. They were completely underwater now and out of the corner of his eyes Stiles could see Derek thrashing against the currents.

Everything moved slowly, Stiles felt himself gasping for phantom air.  His eyes were failing to be kept open and he was hallucinating tail fins in the distance. No, not just tail fins but bodies as well. Great large chests effortlessly swimming through the water through, what used to be, the wall.  

 They were there as if plucked straight from his imagination, the sirens of the great lake. One of the creatures moved closer than the others and Stiles could see it more clearly now.  Her skin was green like the murky waters they swam in. She moved like an eel through the water with her purple hair billowing behind her, eyes fixed upon Stiles.  

Another four of her likeness appeared behind and while not losing eye contact with Stiles, she aggressively gestured towards Derek with her spear.  Two of them were now surrounding an unconscious Derek dwarfing him with their height. Stiles felt a pang of dread as one of them went to bite Derek with inhumanly sharp teeth.

Stiles went to look away but the speared mer-woman gripped his face roughly and abruptly turned Stiles’ head. He missed initial impact of teeth on skin. There was only blood and it enveloped Derek and the surrounding creatures. The veil of maroon prevented him from seeing any more. Leaving him fearing the worst for Derek. He soon deduced that he would suffer the same fate and that made him stop mourning for the Slytherin and start worrying about himself.

‘’Boy, you listen to me carefully.’’ Her hold tightened on Stiles jaw and she was now so close, her words were spitting into his ear. She had a soft musical voice and it lulled him into a daze.

‘’You know of us, we are the clan from the great lake. We know of you and your special _skills._ ’’ This fired a panic in Stiles and he longed to prove her wrong. She liked to taunt with her prey, then.

‘’You must help us-’’ she sounded desperate. This was an unexpected development.  ‘’-from people like him.’’ She moves her eyes to a Derek still bleeding profusely into the water. Stiles didn’t understand her meaning. Did she mean Slytherins? Werewolves? Arseholes? He didn’t much care at the moment, his lungs were about to admit defeat and water filled every crevice of him

She went on. ‘’They are coming, to our lake, to the forest, the castle. You will help us.’’ He felt light-headed and she turned his face to hers. Stiles couldn’t focus, her form became blurry and undistinguished.

‘’Nod if you understand.’’

Stiles did so, with what little energy he could muster, then blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG HAVE I KILLED OFF DEREK? What is this plan? Why does everything go wrong for Stiles? Why won’t anyone say what Stiles ‘special skill’ is? Find out next time on ‘I- will- never- stop- doing- these outro’s’-fan-fiction.


	3. The Plan

When Derek awoke his senses were distorted. He breathed in harshly and was suddenly overcome by the smell of smoke.

It was almost completely dark in the infirmary with only a single candle lit, creating haunting shapes on the walls.  He went to push himself up so that his back rested on the headboard but a splinting pain erupted from his side.  He stifled a moan but it only catalysed a fierce chain of coughing. Thankfully no one stirred.

He turned and saw Stiles in the bed next to him. His nose was whistling like a kettle, the repetitiveness of the sound set his teeth on edge.  It was a catastrophic idea to trust him the boy, he was full of delusions and they all seemed to negatively affect Derek. He should have just stayed in detention but he felt like he wasn’t meant to be there.  Every second he spent feeling the time drip away were seconds lost from his surveillance of the forbidden forest.

He grew worried when he began to hear footsteps, the sound echoed amongst the silence of the infirmary. He turned to greet the noise and saw the man he least wanted to see.

‘’You’re not meant to be here.’’ He hissed at the shadows.

His uncle stepped into the light of the flame.  ‘’Do not threat pup. I have performed a silencing spell and no one saw me Flew into the dungeons, ‘’ He paused. ’’Well, no one who matters.’’  

Uncle Peter still had connections in the Slytherin house, sons and daughters of the underground alliance which was brought about after Voldemort’s demise. His Uncle liked to dabble in all sides of rebellion especially in the magical world. He thrived on conflict and people rewarded him for it greatly.

‘’Why have you come?’’ Derek loathed conversations with his Uncle.  He thought everything was a game, his peers were just pawns on his chess board.

‘’Now now, nephew.’’ Peter said with a pout. He sauntered over and gave a casual pat on Derek’s knee. ‘’I got a call from that oaf, Longbottom. He filled me in briefly. Supposedly you were maimed by some sea creatures?’’ He lifted up the bed sheet to inspect his wound.  ‘‘Ouch.’’ Peter mocked. He poked the bandage that covered his side so hard that fresh blood started to spot.

Derek clutched it in pain and snapped at Peter. ‘’Why didn’t you just visit in daylight through the main doors? Instead you risk discovery by coming at night.’’ His outburst didn’t seem to cut Peter too deeply. 

‘’This cannot wait. The full moon is in a week and we need to talk without prying ears.’’ He looked annoyingly at Derek.

‘’I told you earlier, we can’t do it this Change. It’s too soon.’’

Derek panicked. There would be more than the usual fair share of students, it was the summer fall fest and Longbottom had extended invitation to Beauxbatons Academy. This would mean there was more of a risk of the students getting caught in the crossfire and Derek wanted to minimalize innocent fatalities.

‘’I sometimes forget you are only 16, only a boy.’’ Peter slowly extended his hand back to Derek’s deep cut. Placing it lightly over the bandage. ‘’’Look at what’s happened to you,’’ Derek screamed as his uncle began to press harder and harder into his wound. He tried in vain to pry his uncle’s nails off him, squirming against the force. Peter leaned in closer to him.  ‘’You are the only family I have left and we need to retaliate… with _excruciating_ force.’’  There was a tight pain, then a release as Peter let go of his skin.  

Relief washed over Derek. He was sweating profusely and glaring at his Uncle with newfound horror.  He knew this was a twisted man, it was not the first time he had shown no remorse over his inflictions.

His uncle composed himself and returned to his position at the foot of his bed.  Peter glanced at the bed next to him. ‘’Who’s he?’’ Derek grew cold and contemplated not giving an answer.

His words was laced with pain. ‘’Gryffindor. Was in the room with me when they attacked.’’  Peter surveyed Stiles’ body, the sheets lay tangled in his legs. He was clearly unhurt, moving freely in his sleep and clearly numb to the world. It seemed the healers gave Stiles a particularly strong concoction of something.

‘’Why did they try to kill you and not him?!’’He shouted and Derek winced at the sudden rise in volume.  Peter now hovered over Stiles, looking down at him in disgust. He traced Stiles neck with his fingertips.  Derek grimaced at the touch, his uncle was unhinged.

He replied honestly. ‘’I don’t know.’’

‘’It would be better to dispose of him.’’ He lightly made a slitting motion over Stiles’ jugular. Derek knew what his uncle meant. If Stiles had seen or heard anything from the creatures about their plans then they would be locked up in Azkaban indefinitely. An unjust life for someone merely fighting to regain what was lost to them.

Derek shook his head. He didn’t speak until both of Peter’s hands were tight around Stiles’ throat.

‘’No! Please, we need him uncle.’’ Peter’s eyes were feral when they snapped to his.  Derek almost whimpered, his uncle had a habit of making him cower like a child.

 ‘’…’ _Please’?_ Derek, are you going soft? There will be more deaths than this little kitten.’’ He smiled broad and maliciously. ‘’Much more.’’

Derek went to add to his plea before his uncle could squeeze the life out of his schoolmate. ‘It’s as you said yourself, we need to know why they kept him alive.’’  He forced confidence into his words otherwise Peter would choose not to listen.

Peter stopped then and brought his hands to his side. ‘’We can do that by experimenting on his carcass also.’’ He said this affirmatively but his face showed hesitance.

‘’You would only find blood and silence. If he were alive he would be pumping fresh secrets. We could talk to him and go into this fight with our heads clear.’’  

‘’You’re agonizingly right,’’ He said in defeat. ‘’We need to gain information from him and we need more time to gain followers, especially if those lake vermin are looking to recruit.’’  Peter occasionally made a swift change from a ferocious beast to a reserved gentleman.

This sudden change of mind is what Derek feared the most from his uncle. Nevertheless Derek felt comforted, he didn’t want another person’s death on his conscience.

‘’You will have to be the one to get close,’’’ Peter spoke his thoughts out loud. ‘’You are in all his classes, live under the same roof, eat at the same table.’’ He mused. ‘’Observe. Talk to him, be his ‘friend’. Do whatever you can to get the result we need.’’

Derek didn’t know what to think. He had to follow the impulsive wiry Gryffindor around like some kind of lost puppy?

‘’Will you be ready in two moons?’’ Peter questioned.

Derek nodded hesitantly ‘’But we are from two rival houses. Won’t it be obvious if I start trying to spend time with him?’’  Derek didn’t think it would be hard to invade Stiles friendship group, he only seemed to have one fairly hyperactive friend.  It also shouldn’t be too complicated to gain the information needed. Stiles seemed like the type to spill all his discretions, if given a small nudge.

He had a final question.   

‘’What about Kate?’’

Peter grew tense, he had never liked Kate. ‘’She is a meddlesome bitch. If she is too thick to comprehend the great spectre of our plan then we might as well write her off, along with the rest.’’

Derek was too deep in this mess to disobey his Uncle. Derek knew Kate. She would immediately dump him if he started trailing around someone like Stiles. She would not see the power to be gained, merely strive for it in more blatant places. He didn’t love Kate but he was going to miss the regular late night visits.

Derek turned to the now-snoring Stiles. He was suddenly more interesting to Derek and he was curious to know what was behind that façade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am such a loser. I thought I'd finish this chapter before i went on holiday :( Sorry for the lateness. Pic to be added later. :)


	4. The Chase

It had been a week and it was one of the most peculiar weeks of Stiles’ 16 years.  The weirdest thing to happen wasn’t even being accosted by a group of merpeople.  It was a couple days after that when things really got freaky and it coincidently coincided with Derek’s release from the infirmary.

He had started to scout Stiles out at meal times, crossing that dangerous border between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. He kept calling him strange things like ‘human’ and ‘boy’ and was constantly stood in the backdrop like Stiles’ second shadow. He’d even occasionally bite out a compliment like ‘Your wand work is good.’ but Stiles could tell he didn’t enjoy it, mainly from the constipated look he always gave. Apart from that Derek hardly spoke, there was especially no mention of the whole detention fiasco.

Mantra didn’t take kindly to the new presence and Derek didn’t seem overly fond of her either.

Thinking back, when they both woke up they had stank of stale smoke and Professor Weasley had been there, looking frazzled and extremely aggravated. She was furious. Both he and Derek sat up in bed and gave each other an expression of impending doom.

‘’You silly boys. Did you really think you could just _leave?’’_ She said while furrowing her brow tightly.

‘’I had to conjure up so much fire I will be smelling like an ash tray –which is a muggle item, by the way- for weeks!’’  She smelt herself and pulled a face of disgust.

‘’Dumbledore help me. Never again. I will know better next time.’’ She talked to herself mostly, Stiles and Derek were unwilling participants to the lecture.

 Stiles would like to erase the whole thing from his memory, especially the part where his dad came charging into the room with a face that made his stomach drop.

7 days later and Stiles was sat picking at some grapes on his plate, Derek was looming on the bench next to him. Scott was not there as had quiditch practice and was hoping to get bunked up to head beater – whatever that meant.  Stiles just thought it sounded dirty.

 ‘’Not that I don’t love your company, but what’s the deal here?’’ He spoke with sarcasm, but a kind of truth was hidden there. To be honest, Stiles welcomed any human contact and recently he was becoming increasingly lonely, Scott was often sneaking places with Allison which left Stiles to simmer in a pan of self-pity.

Derek feigned confusion. ‘’What do you mean?’’

‘’I may look like a Hufflepuff but I don’t have the intelligence of one. After the whole near death experience you have been irritatingly attached to me, not unlike Nearly Headless Nicks’ head.’’ He gestured to the ghost floating around the chandelier. Mantra watched him twirling like he was a fresh fish in a bowl.

‘’Do you really think these past few days have been any fun for me either?’’  He said, his cover falling into ruin.  Derek looked as surprised as Stiles did, how refreshing. He raised his eyebrows and beamed at him, the eeriness of Derek’s niceties were starting to grate on Stiles.

‘’Curious… Do you have a compulsive stalker syndrome or any other mental conditions I should know about?’’

‘’Bull’s-eye. Couldn’t get anything pass you. Don’t take any of 6th year exams! You’ve passed on pure wit.’’ Frustration ebbed from him. The jibe made Stiles miss the awkward quietness.

Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘’Ok. Now your hissy fit is done, is this some kind of weird joke?’’ He still wondered what the real reason was.

‘’I just…’’ Derek clasped his hands together tightly and avoided eye contact. He was almost inaudible. ‘’…need help with… my transfiguration essay.’’ He became louder. ‘’I knew you wouldn’t help me straight away because I’m a Slytherin.’’ 

Stiles resented that Derek thought of him as doing something so discriminatory. However, Derek could act about as well as a slipper so he knew it was at least a partly fabricated story. He let it slide because it gave him pleasure to think someone actually wanted his help.

‘’I will.’’ He nodded and Derek responded similarly. ‘’How about tonight?’’

Derek’s face dropped. ‘’No!’’ He slammed his hands down harshly on the table making Mantra hiss at him defiantly.  He looked abashed. ‘‘I just mean, I’m busy.’’’ He side-eyed the cat warily.

Stiles was taken aback. ‘’Do you have another late night rendezvous with your muggle phone?’’

‘’Of course not. Mind your own damn business.’’ This deepened Stiles suspicions, he was definitely hiding something. This brought his mind back to the night of the detention. Was there a connection between the merpeople’s plea and Derek’s sudden interest? He wasn’t sure what he was meant to do about the former. It’s not like he was in a state to refuse her command, nor could he help them while he was on dry land and they were in the depths of the great lake.

Stiles ignored his harsh tone. ‘’We could go over some now, there’s plenty of daylight hours left? Only if you want, though.’’

Derek dropped his head. ‘’That sounds alright.’’

~~~~

They were sat on two leather bound chairs in the middle of Gryffindor common room with a table placed in-between them. It wouldn’t surprise Stiles if this was the first time a Slytherin had ever stepped through the Fat lady portrait.

Once they started on the work it became clear that while Derek wasn’t the best at transfiguration, his lack of knowledge definitely didn’t require any specialist tutoring. There was even a point that Derek was so uninterested in learning that he started talking about the origin of broomsticks just to get off topic. Stiles was easily distracted and he found the facts unexpectedly in depth.  It’s amazing how much someone can speak when procrastinating.

‘’Most people think that broomsticks have different variations of speed. That’s not true. It’s not the speed that changes with a more expensive broom, it’s the ease of the manoeuvring.’’

‘’…while that’s riveting, we should really get back to looking through your essay.’’

Was Derek trying to purposely distract him? Looking down at the paper of Derek’s scrawled handwriting nothing seemed to be amiss. In fact, Stiles might say this was a better essay than his own.

‘’Its fine. We have time.’’ He still snapped most of his words, Stiles was starting to realise that it was more of a linguistic fault than a personality trait.

A voice replayed in his head. ‘’ _You need to help us from people like him.’’_ Stiles looked at the werewolf inquisitively, he was now instructing Stiles in the correct way to brew a polyjuice potion and he seemed to be fevered about the subject.  ‘ _’…from people like him.’’_ Stiles shook the thought.

‘’Don’t you think the best place to brew would be a more ventilated area?’’ Stiles suggested.

Derek agreed. ‘’Yeah. I don’t know what the trio were doing in a girl’s bathroom. The water could have made the potion toxic.’’

The time flew by ridiculously fast. It was around 6 o’clock when there was an eventual lull in conversation, ‘ _The Ethics of Transfiguration’_ laid forgotten amongst the parchment. Stiles didn’t realise he could have so much in common with a Slytherin. He always believed there was an evident distinction in personality between all the houses but the way Derek had the same intensity about the same topics as Stiles, wavered his previous philosophy.

Stiles even went so far to think Derek belonged in Gryffindor. Sure, he was sullen and barely cracked a smile but he was also passionate and led the conversation like a lion led his pride.  When he did crack a smile he quickly rectified it with a hard scowl, as if he felt guilty for being happy. By the end of the session Stiles felt like he had won a race, Derek had relaxed considerably and Stiles had gained a funny sort of admiration for him. He felt his heart drop at the realisation that this time was most likely concocted out of a less than honourable motive.

Once silence fell on them, Derek seemed to realise where he was. Subsequently his eyes grew large with fright by the setting of the sun.

‘’I have to go.’’ He jumped up in hyper speed and was quick to depart, swinging the door open with not even a wave goodbye. 

Stiles sighed openly. He went to pack up the books and in the process his eyes skimmed the chair where Derek had been. He thought he was hallucinating but as he went closer it couldn’t be any clearer. Large claw marks. He spun to look at the door Derek had departed through. Did he go after him? Why didn’t he just say it was the Change? He obviously hadn’t taken his suppressors if he was acting so rabid.  It also explained why he was so brute short before.

Mantra had perked up at the commotion, almost as if she sensed Stiles inner worry. He made the decision to chase after Derek with not much deliberation, almost falling over scattered cushions in his pursuit. There was a blurred figure about the size of Derek’s large build in the corridor ahead and it was moving at an alarming speed.

Stiles’ breath rattled as he tried to keep up with it, Mantra was at his heels following faithfully. He turned left then right, clambering up several stairs but lost sight of him around a sharp corner. He didn’t know in which part of the castle he was now, it might have been the west wing tower but there was no certainty. The moon now hung high in the sky, the doubt that it was even Derek he was chasing crept in.

If it wasn’t for the trail of blood that patterned the floor he would have admitted defeat. Mantra sniffed at it distastefully but she followed it down a tight corridor until it ended facing the wall. ‘’What is it about secret doors and this place?’’ he spoke out loud.  If you were about to become a blood thirsty beast, where would you go in a castle full of students? You’d go into the room of requirement…if you could find it. Stiles assumed this is what Derek had done.

That was fine wasn’t it? Stiles would surely die if he went in there on the night of the full moon. Ripped to shreds, little itty bits of Stiles brought back to his father to identify. He would have turned around and gone to bed. He would have if it wasn’t for the blood, deep red and drop after drop. Stiles was just beginning to like the werewolf, what if he was gravely injured? He may, in the worst possible circumstance, have taken a student inside.   
  
Stiles paced back and forth and thought of what room he required. He had practiced this in his mind since he was a boy, ever since he first heard about the room of requirement. He always imagined he’d be doing this for some other reason. Maybe, a private place to bring a girl or somewhere that resembled his old house with the pine wood and his mother cooking crackling pork on a Sunday.  He almost drifted off at the memory, he needed to focus on a different want now. Clearing his mind he wished to be where Derek was.

And then he was. There were no windows, only dozens of empty chairs and random furniture having been gnawed almost to stumps.  He heard a pathetic flutter of wings, a rip and then a gulp, the air was stale with death. Stiles was apprehensive, he spotted a mass of fur in the corner of the room. It looked like Derek had grabbed a bird from god knows where and was munching on it ravenously. Stiles almost threw up. 

He –it- was facing the wall opposite to Stiles and was hunched over on all fours. The hair on the beast had matted together. It made no movement towards Stiles and didn’t look like it cared about the new presence in the room. That was until he took a light step forward.  It snapped to Stiles then. Its eyes were ablaze with hunger, its teeth bared towards Stiles. Saliva dripped from its open mouth creating a puddle beneath its feet.

Stiles stood completely still. He couldn’t turn and run from the creature, it would show weakness. He would become a gallivanting rabbit in the eyes of the werewolf. Fresh, young and easy to kill.

He felt Mantra stiffen next to him as the wolf stepped closer, testing the waters. He didn’t know how much of the Change Derek would remember and to expose them now would be folly. Stiles locked eyes with Derek. Red pupils pierced his. Was this his plan all along, to lure Stiles into an almost impenetrable room and kill him? Was this the plan from the start of the little charade?

It was too much. The beast took the eye contact as a challenge and charged towards Stiles with all the power of a lorry. Stiles screamed long and hard and Mantra instantly recognised what had to be done.

The wolf was pushed aside by a sudden burst of orange and white. A crunch came with the fall as Mantra’s -now large- body barged into Derek.  Stiles stomach plummeted.  The tiger stood over the whining werewolf with a territorial instinct felt keenly in the wild.

‘Mantra! No! Stop!’ He cried with fierceness.  

She raised her head to him, crimson covering her chin.  The beast now lay still beneath her.

Stiles clumsily ran over and fell next to Derek’s beastly injured form.  Mantra shrunk back from them with a shame evident from her movements. She roared mournfully, changing her form till the roar became a soft long whine.

It was becoming a habit to see Derek suffer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some significant Derek/Stiles interaction. RAWR.


	5. The Seduction

He came to a couple of hours after with all pale skin and no hair. He lay on his back in the centre of the room of requirement with Stiles stood to the side, staring at him with eyes puffed up from fatigue.

He wasn’t fully recovered from the other night and now his bones ached again. He couldn’t sit up by himself so he wiggled his toes to make sure he didn’t have any permanent damage.

The first thing to come out of Stiles mouth wasn’t sympathy. ‘’Do you remember it?’’

‘’No.’’ Derek considered if that was the correct way to respond, he remembered everything. The tiger was at the forefront of his mind.  The memory of amber eyes and glinting sharp fangs almost made him flinch with fear. She was but a cat now, huddled in Stiles arms like a babe. He could tell from Stiles’ vacant expression that he didn’t believe him.

‘’ …yes.’’  There was an air of acceptance in the room, a topic left unreached. 

Stiles calmly nodded and let out a sign. ‘’Can you get up?’’

Derek shook his head and Stiles made his way over to him. He reached behind his back, dropping the cat in the process and lifted with a strength Derek was surprised to see, especially after the night they had.

‘’Thank you.’’ Derek said once on flat footing.

 Stiles chuckled sadly. ‘’Tell me that once I’ve gotten you across the castle un-maimed.’’ Stiles was obviously referring to the pain the tiger had inflicted.

‘’I don’t mean that. I mean… before, I could have killed you.’’

It was an honest regret that he felt, he didn’t mean for Stiles to follow him out the common room. He should have been taking his suppressors even if Uncle Peter said not to, he didn’t care if he was weaker for the rebellion. However, he still felt he shouldn’t have apologised. It was the humans own fault. You don’t walk into a dragons den and not expect to get burnt.

It all worked out in the end, even if blood was still seeping from his re-opened wound. He had gained the facts needed from Stiles, it was time for a plan of action. Shall he tell Peter and risk him being killed? Or shall he proceed forthrightly and ask Stiles for his allegiance? The latter was the only option.

Stiles shrugged the best he could with a very heavy Derek weighing him down.

The cat was brushing itself up against Derek’s legs in an expression of guilt while Stiles took baby steps towards the exit.  They made their way down the tight hallway, Derek was in such a state last night that he didn’t even remember getting into the room of requirement.  

It was in the dungeons when Stiles spoke again. ‘’I will get some things from the potions cupboard… for that.’’  The wound had now bled completely through his shirt threatening to fall onto the stoned floor. Another shirt ruined.

He propped Derek up so that he was leant against a portrait of a burly witch with an enormous amount of hair on her upper lip. She squeaked behind him. ‘’Watch where you put yourself, student. Insufferable good for nothing.’’ ‘’Sorry.’’ He mumbled and shuffled to the side to let her ‘breathe’.  

Stiles bypassed the Slytherin common room and went into the Potions chamber. No one was around this early in the morning. It was still dark in the halls even with the moon hidden and the sun beginning to rise. This realisation seemed to make Derek’s eyes fall heavy with sleep. He closed them lightly, only hearing the footsteps of a returning Stiles.

‘’Its consistency is a bit questionable but it will help with the pain.’’ His sympathy stung Derek and when Stiles went to apply the Lotion-type medicine he swatted his hand away.

‘’I will do it later.’’ He took the bottle from his grasp and tucked it into his trouser pocket.  Stiles looked scorned. ‘’Suit yourself.’’ He said.

Derek knew that it wasn’t enough to be friends with Stiles, a deeper avenue needed to be explored. Friendship was never on the cards. He surveyed Stiles intently for the first time taking in his height which was similar to Derek’s and his build, which was not.  He looked at the moles cutely dotted around his face and neck.

Over the past weeks Derek noticed where Stiles gazes lingered. It wouldn’t be overly shocking to find out he was into guys.

Derek thought Stiles might be inclined to doing ‘that’ but what of him? Could he sleep with Stiles? He’d never thought of any man in that way, they were all too dense and full of muscle. The lack of curves and breast was a turn off.

Stiles might be different. He gained a pleasure when talking to Stiles that could almost be described as a lust. If not he could close his eyes and think of someone else, maybe Kate. What was a little lie to save his life?

~~~~~~~

It had to start with the small touches.

He’d casually graze his bicep on Stiles. Leaning over close to him. He asked for help up stairs, even though he could walk them fine alone. He wore his shirt open paired with a snug tank top.   
Stiles would blush with no shame and Derek’s immediate reaction was to grin. 

The secret of the night of the full moon stayed pent up between them adding to another tension that was brewing.  Derek was meaning to feed that tension until it exploded.

It was weird. Derek didn’t feel guilty about the seduction because it felt so real. The feelings were, weren’t they? Or was he so twisted that he had fabricated his mind into thinking of Stiles in a certain way? Derek was sadistic, that much was clear.

It had been about 6 days since the full moon and they were in the bedroom dormitory looking over spells for Charms. They were parted by the long expanse of the double bed but Derek made sure to wear one of his extra tight tops that had been left in the heat a little too long. They were making small-talk when suddenly Stiles became almost mute.

‘’Can you… leave me for a while?’’ He licked his lips nervously, eyes everywhere but his crotch.

This was it and Derek was a mixture of nervous and excited. He pushed the feeling of guilt down and replaced it with expressive desire.

‘’Have you ever been with a man Stiles?’’ Derek leaned in.  He could smell sweat from Stiles.

‘’What?’’  He was flustered, squirming into the sheets. ‘’No. Never. I’m not gay.’’

‘’Neither am I but it’s not always such a clear line.’’   Derek kept the distance, letting his eyes speak for him. He continued.

‘’Haven’t you ever been curious? You seem like the type.’’

‘’Are you mocking me?’’ He got up to leave. ‘’I’m just gonna’ go-‘’ Derek put his arm out to stop him, pushing him with his forearm till he fell back on to the bed.  He bounced and leaned back on his hands to steady himself.

He used his overbearing nature to hold Stiles’ hands to the sheets. He leaned into him fully until their noses nearly touched. Stiles’ eyes were heavy with want and Derek knew that there was no going back. He stared back with a fire that was only previously felt for Kate.

It was rushed when he pressed his lips to his. Stiles shuffled awkwardly beneath Derek and mewed in a way that was fitting for him. Derek climbed onto the bed so that his hips were pressed into his. Stiles shifted back until they were horizontally on the bed with their mouths hurriedly moving against each other.  He hungrily kissed his mole, tracing his lips from his cheek to his neck and back to Stiles parted mouth.

Stiles tasted fresh and pure. He thought he’d have a lack of emotion about this but things were the contrary, feeling more than he ever did with Kate. He burned with a passion that was unusual for Derek and he wondered if it was the forbidden and the deceit that made him lean into Stiles more wantonly.

He was infecting a poison into Stiles, one that would have no cure.  It would torture Stiles when this was all over but death would hurt him more.

They broke apart and Derek trapped his head between his bent arms so that he was hovering above him.

‘’What was that?’’ His face displaying a paradox of emotion. He looked strangely angry, his brows knitted together but his mouth hanging open eagerly.

Derek didn’t express his feelings often and he thought it would be better to abstain than put on a poor show of lovey-dovey interest so he simply grumbled in response.

‘’That’s not an answ-‘’ He interrupted Stiles again, silencing him with a kiss more intense than the last.  

Stiles touched Derek’s sides with a flat palm, the force stinging lightly. He thought this might mean progress but Stiles abruptly gave a hard shove making Derek fall backwards off the bed.

‘’What the fuck?’’ Derek was the one now directing his question. He tentatively touched his sides to test the healing scar.

Stiles scrambled off the bed quickly, facing Derek the entire time. ‘’Don’t do that. Don’t think I’m the type of person who can be used as your little ‘experiment’,’’ He pushed his hands though his hair. ‘’Jesus Christ.’’  

Shit. He was flushed red, Derek wasn’t sure if that was from the kiss or from rage. Stiles next spoke in an achingly pensive tone.  

‘’I thought you were turning out to be someone I could actually hang out with.  Lately it’s just been… Shit, why am I even talking to you?’’

His plan had backfired immensely.  Panicking he almost begged Stiles not to say anything.

‘’Don’t tell anyone.’’ Derek didn’t blackmail Stiles explicitly but the threat was there coupled with the secret he could unleash.

‘’Believe me. I want to forget this as much as you.’’ Wow. 

Stiles was talking as if their bodies didn’t connect, as if he hadn’t moaned in response. There was no way he believed that the heat was completely one sided and he grew angry at Stiles’ betrayal of his own emotions.

Then he had another excruciating thought. Uncle Peter was going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress. :) I'm going away in a week for a few months so i am gonna try and bang out the last chapters.... wish me luck!


End file.
